


And you're trapped in someone else who isn't you

by microphoneMessiah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Blood, Bullying, Depression, Humanstuck, M/M, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-08
Updated: 2012-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-03 07:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/microphoneMessiah/pseuds/microphoneMessiah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And I upload all the humanstuck pbj.</p><p>Travis tries to conquer his inner demons and Gavin just wants to make it all better, even when he knows he can't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And you're trapped in someone else who isn't you

> _I know you’ve been hurt by someone else_  
>  _I can tell by the way you carry yourself._  
>  _If you let me, here’s what I’ll do_  
>  _I’ll take care of you (I’ll take, I’ll take, I’ll take)_
> 
> _  
> _Take Care by Drake

You’ve never been gorgeous.

Never been handsome or manly.

Never tough, brawny, or buff.

You’ve always just been you and you hate it.

When you stare in the mirror, there’s only ugly you staring back. Ugly you with the fat hanging off your arms and legs like it’s trying to reach the ground. Ugly you with the skin that looks so dark in comparison to your paler boyfriend.

He’s perfect. Lean arms. Lean everything. He’s tall, dark, and handsome in all the right ways and you are you. When you see him, you remember every piece of you that you hate. Every imperfection that reminds you that you don’t deserve him. And you never will. He doesn’t say it, but you know he thinks you’re ugly too. Maybe he’s dating you out of pity or as a joke? Maybe a bet made on a whim with his loud friend you’ve only met once. You’re pretty sure he hated you.

What’s not to hate?

Sometimes you forget, though. Forget the pain. Forget how you’re useless and a waste of space. Forget how you can’t be anything but yourself; no magical way to switch places, lives, planets with someone instead of being stuck living in that thing you call your body. The only time you ever forget is with him.

He’s all sunshine when you’re rainy day clouds. He smiles and you think you’ve forgotten how to breath, forgotten everything and that his smile is the first smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life. And when you kiss him, you pretend that maybe he likes you nearly as much as you like him. That maybe he wants to kiss you and hold you and love you, regardless of how horrible you are. And you pretend that maybe you could spend forever kissing him and never go back to being alone.

Sometimes you fuck. And when you do, you always cry. No matter how happy you might be, how perfect everything is; you just cry. And when he’s fucking you, sometimes you look up. Up into his gorgeous, perfect, beautiful face and you see yourself. And you’re mad. You don’t want to see yourself in this moment. You don’t want to hear him whisper over and over how he loves you and thinks you’re the universe. How he’d give you the world if you asked him for it. No matter how much you tell yourself he means it, you still can’t accept it. You just want to pretend you’re the perfect boyfriend he deserves so you can both go off and do perfect things and be the perfect couple in the perfect apartment living in perfection.

But you can’t.

You scratch his back until it bleeds. Scratch him until he is raw and you can feel his blood on your hands. You really can’t believe it’s the same color, probably the same type too. He thinks you scratch him because you’re a scratcher, just kinky or some shit. You’re not. Never have been. You just want to destroy a piece of something beautiful. Make a part of him unpure too so you can pretend that you’re maybe a little more worthy of him. But whenever your nails tear into flesh and he screams out half in agony and half in pleasure, all you can hear is yourself as a child. The soft sounding sobs you’d make as you’d fruitlessly scrub over and over again at your skin, trying your best to make all of the horrible brown go away.

It never did.

You were sure that God made this one mistake with you. That you were supposed to be pale and pure and thin like all the other children.

Your nails dig deeper.

Gorgeous and happy, living in big homes with pools and going to fancy restaurants for your birthday. Birthday parties with all these friends that loved you.

Your nails break skin.

And they’d give you gifts and tell you how special and wonderful you are. How fun and how much they loved every part of you.

There’s blood seeping under your nails and you’re not sure if it’s a hallucinatory voice in your head of all those children that were never your friends, or if it’s Gavin whispering to you again. You can feel his blood sliding past your fingertips, red and staining.

The playground is empty because you’re there. If you go to the field where they’re playing soccer, they’ll go to the playground. Which, is better than when you showed up and didn’t get picked because no one wants the fat kid. The fat kid is slow. Lazy. Look at his skin. He has to be. He must be. The blue haired girl starts a chant.

Travis the fat ass, can’t ever run fast! Travis the lazy, his people always hazy!

Fat ass. Lazy.

That’s you. It’s always been you. And no matter how much you tear away at Gavin, tear away at your skin, tear away at your mind; it’ll always be you. God won’t make you beautiful. Your fairy godmother won’t come. Peter Pan won’t carry you away.

There’s just you.

You orgasm and you’re sobbing. The tears burn your eyes, but you can’t stop. Even though you don’t deserve to cry. Don’t deserve to feel pain at all. You don’t stop though. Don’t stop when Gavin wraps you into his arms. Don’t stop when he’s whispering ‘i love you’s into your hair. Not when you fall asleep.

And when you dream, you’re there as you’ve always seen yourself. You’re thin and beautiful and pale and everything you aren’t while your awake. He’s there too and you’re both flying in the air. He takes your hand in his and smiles that smile you love and everything is perfect. Nothing matters and no pain can find you hear. No bullies can taunt you. No fat clings to you. No skin color shows through. You can be free. In the corner of your mind though, you know this is all fake. But you’d rather live the illusion than wake up because when you do, you won’t want what’s there. Gavin keeps telling you how he will. How he wants to just be there with him and how he loves you more than you’ll ever know.

But he is perfect.

And you’ll never be good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this piece was really self-reflective and personal. That being said, I hope that it doesn't trigger anyone, as that would be the worst thing to happen. If this makes you feel anything at all, please let me know. I write to spark emotion and I've gotten a bit of a response from other people who have seen it, so please don't hesitate to share.


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